


his body always kept mine inside it

by inizio



Series: triskinkelion [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Dubious Consent, Implied Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore, Kink Meme, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Past Character Death, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inizio/pseuds/inizio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson sticks his nose where it ought not to be, and Isaac gets a little worked up over the breach in privacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	his body always kept mine inside it

“What is this?”

They’re spending another long Saturday in the house where Isaac grew up, slowly sorting through the bits of his life he can admit he’d rather leave buried. Derek doesn't think he should be alone, has been rotating a member of the pack to partner with Isaac every weekend; Scott was last, so they've started the cycle again. Isaac doesn’t look away from his phone when he answers, feigning disinterest as he clicks aimlessly through his text message inbox. “What?”

Jackson coughs a little, clearing his throat. Isaac feels the tension immediately between them like he does everything in the pack these days, taut as a tightened plucking string. He notes a pointed increase in shiftiness as Jackson digs through a random pile of shit on Isaac’s bedroom floor.

Isaac tosses his mobile onto the pillow next to his head and props himself up on his elbows, peering over the edge of the bed, his curiosity reluctantly piqued. “Jackson, what? What are you looking at?”

“I, uh it’s. It’s nothing.” Hurried shuffling. “Forget it.”

Instantly, Isaac is off the bed and at his side, squinting as Jackson hunches, tries pathetically to hide whatever it is from Isaac’s view with his broad bare back. He jostles the other boy’s arms aside and his eyes alight on the objects of suspicion.

Isaac freezes. “Shit.”

He feels his face draining, paling. Rage and anguish flood his veins and he can’t grab the photos fast enough. They’re slipping through his fumbling fingers, sticking to the heat of his skin as he moves maniacally. Jackson’s trying half-heartedly to placate him, a firm hand on his shoulder, forcing him down. “Isaac,” he urges, “Isaac, look, it's not a big-.”

“Shut up, you- just shut _up,_ Jackson, stop acting like you know anything about me,” Isaac snaps, shoving up and away from him as he scrambles towards his still-cluttered closet, chucking them in and slamming the door closed. He's breathing heavily as his eyes snap across the floor, scanning the room for anything left behind, and both he and Jackson spot the last one at the same time. Jackson looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, and then back at it, and then there’s a mad scramble as Isaac throws himself to the floor in an attempt to get it before Jackson can.

It’s Isaac with the first punch to Jackson’s bare stomach, effectively wiping the pinched look of concern off Jackson’s face as he’s sent rolling into the dresser; Isaac almost has his hands on it when Jackson sneaks up on him from his blind spot, snatching it right of his reach. His friend has his mouth open to try again when Isaac grabs him by the ankles and slams him to the floor. It tumbles out of his grip, and Isaac quickly crawls forward to pick it up off the patterned mat. Jackson leaps onto Isaac’s back, smashing them both into the wooden floor and nicks it straight from Isaac’s loosening fist.

Isaac loses his cool. He lets out a snarl, his temper inconsolably flared, before reversing their positions and forcing a satisfyingly defiant Jackson onto his back.

“Give it back!” he bellows, pinning Jackson’s elbows by his sides, his bare chest heaving lightly with exertion and sweat gleaming on his pale skin. The wolf inside him rumbles to alertness. His eyes must be awash with golden light. “It’s fucking private.”

“Isaac, look, I won’t blab about it, but you can’t just pretend some of this stuff never happened, that you didn’t have a family. It’s not healthy, dude, and you really shouldn’t have just left ‘em lying around, c’mon,” Jackson’s saying, once a douchebag, always a douchebag, struggling to counter Isaac’s ridiculous strength while he’s still unshifted.

Isaac takes a deep breath, feeling the tremors vibrating through his body, his muscles bunching and straining as he concentrates on not shifting, _not_ shifting, _not shifting_. The familiar tightness runs up and down his spine, across his neck and face, and the rumble starts somewhere deep in his heaving chest, and through the haze of heat and stifling self-control, he feels Jackson go still beneath him, subconsciously attempting to calm the animals inside them both.

It takes him a while, years of long, slow breaths, but he manages to get himself calm enough to wheedle his wolf away from the brink of shifting. It paces inside him, restless and angry, but he squeezes Jackson’s arms to ground himself, ignoring his packmate’s protesting hiss as his grip tightens. He pushes the beast further down, tries to concentrate the heat simmering beneath his skin into a constricted ball within his chest, visualising the glowing golden orb, finding his anchor. He blinks the last of the excess anger away, his focus rapidly returning to the situation at hand.

His grip on Jackson’s biceps loosens ever so slightly as he marginally cools down, and instantly – stupidly, still a foolish, fresh pup – Jackson tries to push away from beneath him.

Isaac immediately constrains him against the floor with a low growl, head snapping forward and his canine fangs suddenly pressed into Jackson’s jugular, warning. _I outrank you. Stay put_. Jackson lets out a sub-vocal involuntary whine, shifting suspiciously beneath Isaac’s hot, heavy weight, and Isaac, now peculiarly alert, feels his signals go off. He snarls, amused and spiteful and pleased, and then, hesitating only slightly, he bites down harder; Jackson’s heart rate skips and speeds up like a scared rabbit. Or, his mind supplies, helpfully, a horny one. Isaac smirks inwardly. 

He retracts his fangs slowly, raises his head until he meets Jackson’s embarrassed gaze.

“Jackson,” he says, his eyes gleaming. “That biting shit. Of course you like that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jackson's laugh is forced, nervous, as he tries to rise up; his words are blurted too quickly, tinged with guilt. “Get off me, Isaac, and I’ll give you back your stupid–”

“No,” Isaac rumbles, roughly shoving Jackson back onto the hardwood floor, his head knocking soundly against it with a wince. “You were trying to distract me? Consider yourself successful.”

Isaac’s mouth attaches itself to Jackson’s throat, blunt human teeth grazing up the side slowly, feeling the pulse beat wildly against his mouth, before he trails slow, chastising nips down his pack brother’s neck. He’s in control here. Not weak. Jackson shudders beneath him, his skin burns in Isaac’s wake.

“Isaac, stop,” Jackson mutters weakly, his lesson learnt, his palms flattening against Isaac’s chest in a slightly panicked manner. “I get it, I shouldn’t have looked through your shit, you can still kick my ass here til Sunday, blah blah blah, now get the fuck off me.” Isaac sinks his teeth into the juncture of Jackson’s neck and shoulder, and the boy beneath him gasps and arches, pressing his body upward into Isaac’s, and Isaac feels the rush of lust like his nerve endings are sparking with static.

“Kinky slut,” Isaac mutters, low, licking hungrily at the angry skin. “You _like_ that.”

“God.” Jackson’s chest heaves, shivering as the tingles of pleasure linger in his body. “Isaac- I, shit.”

Isaac barks out a sudden involuntary laugh, feeling dizzy off the dominance, ideas racing through his head as he tries to decide where to bite next. A particularly juicy bit of flesh piques his interest, and he pulls the muscle of Jackson’s right pec into his mouth, laving his tongue over the skin before biting down hard enough to just avoid wounding him.

“Isaac,” Jackson breathes through a low moan, clearly trying to calm them both before this gets completely out of hand. He gets off on being pushed around, Isaac knows it, everyone knows it. “Isaac, don’t.”

“Don’t? _Fuck_ you,” Isaac growls, his eyes growing darker as they fix on the slowly disappearing evidence of his teeth on Jackson’s skin. “Fuck if I give a shit what you want.”

He attacks with renewed vigour, licking and sucking and biting every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. There’s so much of Jackson, so goddamn much, and Isaac wants it all, knows he can take it, knows Jackson will give it to him. Jackson groans at the hot slickness of Isaac’s lips, of his tongue, and Isaac revels in the new variety of non-asshole noises he can wrench from Jackson’s lungs, his cock getting harder by the fucking second.

“No marks,” Jackson gasps suddenly, pushing Isaac away as he remembers Derek’s order. Shit, shit, shit. “Isaac, no marks.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Isaac mutters, not discerning any words at all through his haze of lust, pressing down again in urgency to get back to Jackson’s skin. 

“Isaac!” Jackson grinds out, in half-pleasure, half-frustration as his pack brother scrapes his canines against sensitive abs, his tongue mapping out the landscape of beautiful muscle.

Jackson puts his hands on Isaac’s shoulders and shoves, hard. “Dude, stop.”

“God,” Isaac complains, rolling his eyes as he flops back to sit on his haunches. “What the fuck, Jackson?”

“Just chill out for one goddamn second and stop trying to ignore-” Jackson pauses, huffs. “Look, I just want to make sure we understand each other here.”

“What the hell is there to understand?” Isaac snaps, pressing the heel of his palm down hard against the swell of his khakis to quell his straining erection. “Do you want to fuck around or not, Whittemore?”

Jackson’s indignant tsk loses its effect as his eyes glue themselves to Isaac’s groin. “Of course I do, idiot.”

“Then we _understand_ each other just fine,” Isaac says, and the cool tilt to his smile sends a thrill down Jackson’s spine before Isaac presses forward again, sealing their lips together. He bites hard at Jackson’s lower lip, knowing he’ll get a kick out of it, rewarded when Jackson’s easy moan vibrates against his tongue.

“No marks, nothing lingering,” Jackson murmurs again against their connected skin, too hungry for Isaac’s lips to separate their mouths, and Isaac grunts his assent as he lowers the shorter boy back to the smooth wooden floor. All he really wants is Jackson’s dick in his mouth so he doesn’t have to think about anything else, and it’s taking an awful long time to get there.

Isaac breaks the kiss to quickly unbutton both of their trousers, exhaling his relief as his cock is liberated. He continues to work on Jackson’s pants, dragging them off him and tossing them carelessly to the side as his eyes find their prize. Jackson’s eyes glint, meeting his and dropping away as he spreads his legs wide, his leaking erection standing tall and proud for Isaac’s perusal. A rumble sounds low in Isaac’s throat, knowing his approval is clear in his darkened gaze. He wraps a large hot hand around Jackson’s own heat, moving forward to bite at Jackson’s neck and chest as he pumps him slow and tight.

“You’re so fucking hot, Jax,” Isaac mutters between hard nips. Nothing works quite like flattery for a guy who pretends to love himself. “I can barely keep my hands off you. You like my hand on your cock? My teeth on your pretty skin?”

“Fuck yeah,” Jackson moans, his hips pistoning upwards with each jolt of sharp pain, pleasure flooding through him in heavy waves. Isaac feels Jackson clutch at his hips, seemingly taken by a sudden desperation to touch him, and Jackson’s nimble fingers make quick work of Isaac’s zipper and slip inside, taking Isaac’s burning member in a firm hold. Isaac groans against his shoulder, his teeth finding purchase in Jackson’s supple skin. Jerking in reaction, Jackson bucks up into Isaac’s fist, triggering another ripple of pleasure, his own fingers squeezing Isaac yet again, repeating the entire cycle.

“Jesus,” Isaac gasps, his tone of desire tinged with amusement. “Hold on. Shit.”

He knocks Jackson’s hand away, kicks off his khakis and leaps back down, fastening himself determinedly between Jackson’s legs and thrusting forward, bringing their cocks into mutual contact. Their groans echo in the room, in his bedroom, making this seem even more surreal and insane. Isaac grips Jackson’s hips and grinds against him again, and then again and again, increasing the pace until they’re making so much noise, a thought crosses his mind about what his father might do if he found him like this, naked and thrusting against the Whittemore’s teen vogue son.

The thought is spirited away as Jackson suddenly whines and grabs Isaac’s ass in hot hands, urging Isaac to buck faster, pulling the other boy down flush against him, and their bodies slide and slip in movements both too sharp and too smooth, getting not enough contact and then almost too much. The pleasure spikes in Isaac’s groin, in his stomach, blooms outward and tingles everywhere with each uncoordinated jerk of his desperate hips and his fingers press so hard into Jackson’s hips, he swears his hand prints are etched into the burning skin. “Fuck,” Isaac whispers, the thought twisting in his gut and making him thrust harder. “Fuck _fuck_.” Isaac’s so _so_ close. He can feel himself nearing the edge, hurtling toward it like the reckless wolf he is, and, God, he wants to come. He leans down, hearing Jackson’s harsh, fast panting in his ear, tendrils of hair – he doesn’t know whose – plastered to his cheek as he buries his face in the crook of Jackson’s neck, and needing to hear Jackson’s voice, unable to control his instinct, bites hard into the exposed skin.

“Isaac!” Jackson cries, the intensity of his voice and the heat of his moan shooting straight to Isaac’s groin and shoving him rudely off the cliff of his pleasure. Finally, Isaac thinks, half-growling half-groaning into the crook of Jackson’s neck as he stiffens then spasms sporadically through orgasm, his hips jerking as he empties his load on their slick abdominals. He shudders loudly through the waves, fangs still sunk into Jackson's thick neck, his muscles twitching uncontrollably, and then collapses on top of the other boy, panting hard.

“Isaac,” Jackson croaks in his ear mere seconds later, his breaths shallow and erratic, fingernails scratching at Isaac’s scalp. Needy. Desperate. Desperate for Isaac. “Don’t leave me hanging, man.”

Isaac snorts, licking at the broken skin at Jackson's neck and then lifting his head to kiss Jackson soundly. Jackson makes a pleased sound as their tongues tangle, and Isaac pulls away. “Don’t worry,” he smirks, sliding down their slippery bodies and settling between Jackson’s thighs again. “I got you.”

Isaac nips sharply at the taut flesh of Jackson’s inner thigh, soothing his bites with the smooth glide of his tongue. Appreciating the teasing but anxious for release, Jackson’s hand, still tangled in Isaac’s short hair, tugs his head towards his near-aching cock.

“Patience is a virtue, Jackson,” Isaac taunts, kissing the hot, hard flesh.

“And not one I possess,” Jackson mutters breathily, his gaze fixed on Isaac’s mouth. “It's insulting, really, coming from you, of all people, on today of all days. Now c’mon, you _ass_ hole. Why is your mouth not on my dick?”

“Feisty little sneak, aren’t cha?” Isaac mumbles, ever sassy, but obliges, taking Jackson as far as he can into his mouth right away. Jackson moans his relief loudly, holding Isaac’s head in place for the first few seconds, reveling in the wet heat. Isaac slides up again, bobs back down, the feel of Jackson hot and thick and salty and throbbing in his mouth sending jump-start electricity to his own cock. Jackson keeps up the commentary, gasps and groans and steady encouragement and Isaac, and after a few more minutes of the exquisite sensation, Isaac knows he’s close.

“Nearly there,” Jackson warns, his fingers tightening in the curly strands of his packmate’s hair. “Isaac. I… I– _shit_!”

Isaac breathes hard through his nose, allowing Jackson to fuck his mouth theatrically through his orgasm. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, swallowing easily as Jackson calms down and pulls out, wiping off the cum that drips down the side of his chin.

“ _Loud_ ,” Isaac teases, bare moments later, sprawling himself out beside his brother and smiling a little as he meets Jackson’s lazy, satisfied gaze. “That biting thing really turns you on, huh?”

“Whatever,” Jackson says, rolling his eyes in a poor attempt to hide his embarrassment. “You weren’t supposed to find out about that.”

“Does anyone else know?”

Jackson made a noncommittal sound. “Derek might.”

“Huh. Well, if it makes you feel any better, you definitely weren’t supposed to find my admittedly obsessive Camden shrine,” Isaac shrugs, looks away to the side until his eyes alight on the photo, lying face down on the floor, forgotten. _Christmas, 2003,_ reads the back in faded blue ink. He misses his brother more than anything in the world. He doesn't turn the picture over. “I guess that means we’re even.”

“I guess,” Jackson agrees reluctantly. “Does that, er- I mean, I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine?”

“Uh,” Isaac says, his eyes flicking to Jackson's neck.

Jackson elbows him in the stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> [kink table prompt #4: biting]  
> I actually wrote this and a bunch of other kink meme fills years ago when I was really into the Twilight wolfpack scene, but I never really got around to getting the series where I wanted it and so I never posted any of them. So I just tweaked a bit (a lot) of the dialogue and the names and here we are. Totally unbeta'd and probably chock full of mistakes. It's a little rushed and feels sort of incomplete but I really felt in the mood to write something for the first time in so long that I just had to post it. Secretly bossy Isaac ftw.


End file.
